Ebed-Melech
by ValkyrieCain is me
Summary: It was always supposed to be two, the brothers against the world. But it wasn't. Lennie Winchester was never supposed to exist, and the Angels knew it, so how could she be apart of the story? She didn't care either way, and would gladly take down any Angel that dared to cross her, especially the one with the stupidly blue eyes. Anything to keep her brothers safe. Destiny's a bitch
1. Chapter 1

Eleniel was never normal. When Mary and John Winchester found out they were expecting twins, there was an admitted moment of confusion. Twins weren't exactly the most common thing in existence and neither of their families had previous instances of them. But nonetheless they were determined to love both children as fully as was possible. Mary couldn't quite say why she named them the way she did. Dean was obviously for her mother, but the second twin, a small, delicate little girl, was not named after her father as John had expected. Maybe it was a greater design, maybe it was a youth spent poring over Tolkien's works, but either way, the aptly christened Eleniel Grace Winchester, unbeknownst to her parents, was going to shake the earth to its core.

* * *

Two years old

"Mommy!" A heavily distraught toddler raced toward his mother, carting his sister behind him, fear flooding him as the blood ran harder down her arm.

Mary whipped around at the fear in her son's voice, hunter instincts still sharp despite their disuse, scanning for a threat to her children. Dean helped his sister into a chair, then raced to the kitchen where his mom was making dinner, tugging on her leg frantically to get her to follow him. His dad wasn't home and with the pain he knew his sister was feeling rushing through him, he was desperate to make her feel better.

"We were playing in the bushes an' she fell and cut her arm, an' it hurts, an' she was crying, but she didn't want me to know, but I heard her an' it really hurts but I don't know why, an-" "Shh" Mary hushed him, running her fingers through his short hair soothingly."Let me take a look."

Crossing the dining room to where her daughter sat quietly, tears streaming silently down her face, little fingers wrapped around a gash that stretched across the back of her right arm. "Here sweetheart, let mommy take a look at that. Shh, it's okay, it'll be alright." Gently assuring and comforting, Mary coaxed the toddlers arm away from her side, turning it to see the wound better. Outwardly smiling calmly, Mary internally panicked at the several inches long gash that stretched across Eleniel's arm.

"There now my little angel, it's just a scratch. Why are you crying?" Eleniel's little lip quivered dangerously, a preview to the storm of tears she was just barely holding back. "Hurts" She whimpered and Dean immediately attached himself to her side, chubby toddler arms stretched around her middle in an attempt to comfort his twin.

"Wen." He lisped, mushing his face against hers. "It'll be okay, Wen. I'll protect you." Eleniel snuggled into her brothers side, hiding her face in his shoulder. "Bean." She whispered back. "Love you, Bean."

Mary Winchester's heart warmed as she watched her children, but a jolt of fear pierced the warmth as she saw the wound that had no place on a two year old body.

Something had happened to her little girl. That was no ordinary scrape gained from innocent play. It was a knife wound, a type the ex-hunter was intimately familiar with, and she wanted nothing more to know where Eleniel had gotten it from. But something, something she couldn't quite say what, made her let it go. Later, after the wound was cleaned and bandaged and the twins had been tucked in the same bed, Dean refusing to leave his sister's side, and she herself was curled up next to John, Mary would wonder. She would wonder about the wound, about how Dean knew about it before Eleniel told him, about why Eleniel wouldn't tell her how it happened, about why she wasn't more concerned, and about sickly yellow eyes glowing in the dark.

* * *

Four Years Old

Some would say it was unnatural. Some would assume it was what had been dubbed Twin Telepathy. But Mary knew. She knew that it was more than that, more than just a casual feel of how the other was, of where they were, of what they were thinking. The connection Dean and Eleniel, now nicknamed Lennie after more than one case of mispronunciation, was not a normal one. If at any time of the day she were to ask one twin where the other was, they would be able to give an exact description of the other's current surroundings, whether they had seen them before or not. When she asked them how they knew that, they would simply state, "I asked her/him. She/He told me what it looked like."

But it was more than just knowing where the other was. Dean knew when Lennie was tired. Lennie knew when Dean was hungry. Dean could tell when his little sister was in trouble from across the playground. Lennie knew when Dean was fighting with the bullies that had picked on her when she was getting tended to in the nurses office. She greeted him without surprise when he too was brought to the Nurses to have his scrapes fixed up.

John told Mary to let it go, to be happy that the Twins could always rely on each other, and Mary was. She was delighted that her oldest children would always have each other, that they weren't angry or jealous when Sam was born because they had always shared the attention between the two of them. But she just couldn't shake the feeling loose that something was wrong with their connection. But for some reason, she never did anything about it. She never researched a reason and never tested the limits beyond casual observation. Every time she thought about really investigating, the idea slipped away and she soon forgot it.

* * *

Five Years Old and Beyond

John never thought about it until he began to learn of the Demon Children. Then, suspicions began to run rampant through a tired, paranoid mind, connecting things he had never really noticed until that point. How Dean and Lennie always knew when the other was in danger, how they could tell where the other was injured and how bad it really was no matter how much the other tried to lie about it. He never looked at them the same way again, but it was mainly his daughter that he focused on. Watching her like a hawk any time she answered for Dean or when she yelled a warning for something she couldn't see that Dean could. But like Mary, he never did anything about it, seemingly content to watch and suspect.

But none of them, not one, could have suspected what the real reason behind it was. Not even Lennie herself could, for the knowledge was not needed yet. Not until the First Seal was broken and the Righteous Man was raised from Perdition was her true potential unleashed.


	2. Phantasmagorical

If there was one thing Eleniel Winchester knew it was pain. She had experienced almost every kind in her twenty eight years of life. The pain of losing a parent twice over, the pain of heartbreak, mental pain, and more physical pain than she could list. Broken bones, torn flesh, bullet holes, knife cuts, bruises and scars galore that littered her body on a weekly basis. but none of those pains, not one, could compare to the agony she now felt.

Breathing was a trial she only barely brought herself to conquer, a struggle to stand and move around as though she were a complete person. It only got worse when her little brother left, storming from their psuedo- father's house in a swirl of rage and hurt.

She broke just a little more with each day and it killed Bobby that he couldn't help her. Her situation was so unique to her and the problem at hand that there was no solution to be found. Dean was dead. And as much as he loved her and Dean, he wasn't stupid enough to try and offer his soul in return for Dean's. He was sure if Lennie could bring herself to leave her bed she would try, no matter how foolish it was.

As it were, she was practically comatose. She spent her waking hours staring at the far side of the room. If she did move it was to nibble half-heartedly at the food he would demand she eat or to drag her way to the bathroom to relieve herself or shower.

She was a broken husk of a woman, Bonny had to admit to himself after the third month with no change. There was no emotion, no recognition, nothing that would signify that there used to be a vibrant, lively, sarcastic woman where she now lay. And as the fourth month began, Bobby started to wonder if it was worth it to check her into some kind of institution. Loathe as he was to think the thoughts he knew this was something he knew nothing about.

Reaching for his phone he resigned himself to the decision he had made, starting to dial the number he had found for the closest mental asylum. But before he could hit the final digits, a piercing scream split the silent house. Hunter instincts that had kept him alive had him reaching for his revolver. Parental instincts that were new and freshly used over the last few months had him recognizing Lennie's pain filled voice.

'Nightmares' he thought, pushing away from the table to go check on her. A dull thud from above had him full on sprinting for the stairs, urgency filling him as choking sounds reached his ears.

Line Break

Pain.

Eleniel woke to a pain that burned like hell fire under her skin. A strangled scream tore her throat as she fell from her bed, scrambling at the walls for a hand hold.

"Gah!" she shouted, clutching at her chest, eyes screwed up against the torment.

Oh gods, it felt like someone was dragging her through a bed of hot coals, then dropped her in a sea of acid, complete with flesh eating leeches. She howled long and hard, falling to the floor in a heap of shaking, jerking limbs.

"Ah! Dean!" She sobbed, fresh waves of agony flitting across the bond that had, for four excruciating months, remained cold and flat. Now, emotions and memories ran fast and rampant through her, tearing at her heart and psyche. Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped, and she went limp, relief flooding her mind.

She lay there for who knows how long, time having lost conscious meaning, and lazily hearing the voices that drifted to her ears.

"Couldn't possibly be her"

"You felt the disturbance in the Righteous man's soul, it called out to her"

"But what is she? She is no white witch"

"We should end her now"

"Dangerous"

"Unknown"

"-could it be her?"

"No"

"Let her be."

"But Michael-"

"Let her be. This may be to our advantage."

Eleniel shifted, face scrunching at the pain that followed the movement, and the voices abruptly cut off, leaving her in silence.

Silence that was abruptly broken as her bedroom door slammed open and Bobby ran through, immediately finding her crumpled form.

"What the hell was that?!" He demanded, scooping her up to return her to the bed. Taking a step back, he blinked as color flooded Lennie's previously pale cheeks. She smiled at him warmly, eyes bright and shining for the first time in months.

"Dean's coming home, Bobby." Was all she said before turning on her side and falling into a deep, restful sleep.

Bobby stepped back from the bed, blinking back tears. He would call the asylum in the morning. He would let her have this last peaceful moment, comforted by her own illusion.


End file.
